


The One With All The Kissing

by Thette



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Barry Allen, Bisexual Iris West, Blow Jobs, Canonical Character Death, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Freebie list, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Friends (TV), Leonard Snart Lives, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Martin Stein Lives, Multi, Non-Penetrative Sex, Pansexual Leonard Snart, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Oculus (DC's Legends of Tomorrow), Rimming, Scissoring, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, oculus fix-it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-08-08 14:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16430993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: ...or: Five Steps on Iris and Barry's Journey to Polyamory, and One Step They Took Together with LenBarry and Iris navigate the waters of polyamory, starting with such a simple thing as a Freebie List, and ending up in a poly triad with Leonard Snart. (Oh, and Iris has a girlfriend, too.)





	1. The One With The List

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielonfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielonfire/gifts), [ChillinLikeVillains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillinLikeVillains/gifts).



> This fic is about 85 percent written, I have a few things to finish up, but I intend to post over the next week. If you're here for the Flower Power ship (Iris/Lily), it's all in chapter 4.
> 
> Chapter 1-2: Saturday 2018-10-27 (Westallen)  
> Chapter 3: Monday 2018-10-29 (Coldflash, Westallen)  
> Chapter 4: Wednesday 2018-10-31 (Flower Power)  
> Chapter 5: Friday 2018-11-02 (Coldwest)  
> Chapter 6: Sunday 2018-11-04 (Coldwestallen)
> 
> This fic started out as a birthday gift to ChillinLikeVillains, who wanted polyamory, but that was months ago. ("It was just going to be a short, fluffy little 5+1" is my constant complaint as a writer.) But it's also a birthday gift to destielonfire, who I owe my entire existence in this fandom to. Love you, babe, even if I'm a day late with the gift!
> 
> Thanks to Hiver_Frost_Elf for the beta!

The best thing about finally getting to date Iris was the kissing. 100/10, would kiss again, literally fulfilling his childhood dreams. The second best thing was doing all the things they used to do as friends, but closer and cuddlier. Barry inhaled the scent of her hair, from where she rested her head on his chest. Mango was suddenly his favorite fruit. She was just a little tipsy from drinking wine with dinner, and he wished he could be, too, no matter how intoxicating her presence was. She came up closer, resting her hand on his waist and humming softly. In the background, Netflix played another episode of Friends, but Barry paid it no mind. His mind was completely taken up by the love of his life, and her tiny gestures.

She was laughing softly. On screen, Ross was laminating his freebie list. Iris rolled over, and laid with her head in Barry's lap. He smiled down at her, taking in her gorgeous brown eyes filled with mirth.

"Barry, if you had a freebie list, who'd be on it?"

"Why would I need one? I have you."

"Sap." She took his hand, and kissed his knuckles. "I know how much you love me, and I hope you know how much I love you." 

One kiss to his thumb, and then she moved to his palm, just tiny little presses of her lips. This was dangerous. He could feel his arousal rising, and he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. They were taking things slow, not rushing into sex before they were ready. He stroked her cheek instead, and she nuzzled his hand gently.

"I also know you have a Thing for Oliver Queen," she said, mischief in her voice.

Barry sputtered, and Iris laughed. He couldn't deny it. Who could resist a dashing hero with muscles for days and dark secrets? Well, if that was how she wanted to play it, he knew full well that _she_ absolutely could not resist him.

"We should start a club, then," he said, delighting in her semi-shocked gasp. She might be a little more drunk than she was letting on. "I've seen you ogling him."

She giggled. "So, tell me, which five celebrities would be on your list?"

"Uh-huh," he replied. "I tell you one, you tell me one." She nodded slowly, running her hands over his forearms. "Terry Crews. He could just _pick me up and walk away_. I don't even know if he's into men, but imagine…"

"You'd be so tiny, Barry. For me, Tessa Thompson. You know that video to Pynk! where her face is literally the clit in Janelle Monae's pussy, and she's smirking? I wanted to _eat_ her. I've never felt so gay in my life as I felt when I watched that video, not even when I was with Jennifer. Remember her?"

"Sure do. You could say that teenage Barry had a few complicated feelings about you two."

"'Complicated feelings' he says, as if I didn't find his internet history." She chuckled. "Poor thing. You didn't even know how to search. I still can't believe you used the actual search terms 'porn' and 'two girls porn.'"

"Don't pity me, just because I'm not as specific as you were," he laughed. "And then, once I got past the… unsavory parts of the net, I discovered I was bi myself. So, you totally did me a favor." He fell quiet for a little while, but kept his fingers moving along her sides. Carefully, but with pressure. He knew what would happen if he pushed his fingers in or used a too light touch. She was ticklish as hell, and prone to defend herself with all possible means.

"We could maybe have used more than one parent in total," he said, finally, sighing deeply. Iris buried her nose in his belly, choosing not to comment. "Lady Gaga." He changed the subject back to mindless objectification.

"Why?"

He shrugged. It might not have been the most thoughtful choice. He just picked a random hot celebrity that came to mind. "I like her music. And the way she moves."

"Lucy Liu."

"I remember you drooling over her in Charlie's Angels."

"Shut up!"

"Make me," he challenged. As always, she rose to the challenge and sat up, straddling him and smothering him in deep kisses. Her lips were soft on his, and he couldn't resist nibbling a bit on her lower lip. He held her with his hands around her waist, feeling his fingertips touch behind her back. His thumbs drew circles on her belly, sneaking in under her striped shirt to touch bare skin. The brown, flared skirt was rucked up over her bare thighs. She ran her hands through his hair, ruffling it like she'd done so many times when they were young.

"So," he asked, "if Oliver is on our lists, how exactly do we define a celebrity?" He tried to make it sound innocent, but the way Iris looked at him made him felt like he'd been found out.

"Let's just say… Been on TV? As more than a random person on the street, I mean. Like, had at least one full reportage on TV or a four page spread in a magazine or paper?"

"Basically, I'm a celebrity and you're not?"

"Of course, you ass." She went back to kissing him, a little more bitey than before, and he gave just as good as he got.

"With that definition in mind, I want Leonard Snart on my list. I don't care that he's dead." He rested his forehead against hers.

"Hey, babe, don't be sad. I always knew you liked him." Her thumbs were at his cheekbones, and were those tears she was drying? He didn't think he'd ever cried properly over the loss of his best frenemy before, and once he let go, he couldn't stop crying. She held him close, and kissed those tears away. When Barry had calmed down, she whispered in his ear.

"The way you pushed him against the fireplace the last time we saw him? When I got back home that day, I got off to the memory of that moment. You were so protective, and he was rougeish and sarcastic, and you were all up in each other's space. If we ever meet him again, I'd let you take him home for a threesome."

Barry hiccuped a laugh among the tears. "God, Iris, you can't just _say_ things like that." He moved his hands down to the small of her back, pulling her closer, and she tilted her pelvis to meet him.

"I can say a lot of things," she smirked, her body moving slowly against his. "Like how I'd love to watch him on his knees for you, that mouth ---oh, that mouth!--- full of your cock. And those hands, never still? I'd love to see what he can do with them."

Barry gasped, and couldn't stop from thrusting up to meet her. He was fully hard now, all thoughts about waiting long gone. He grabbed her ass, pulling her down against him, and started sucking on her neck.

"Are we doing this?" she asked, and Barry could only nod. She snaked her arm between them to unbutton his jeans, pulling his cock out. He fucked into her hand, trying his best not to go too fast. Carefully, he followed the line of her thighs up to her underwear. Smooth, satiny briefs, already half soaked through. She arched her back, losing her grip on him, and pushed her breasts towards him. He buried his face in them, mouthing over the fabric of her thin shirt. When he cupped her mound, she met his hand with eager thrusts and grabbed his face for a hungry kiss. Moaning into his mouth, she came, and it was just as beautiful as he'd always imagined.

When she came down from her orgasm, she started rubbing him again, and it didn't take long until he was coming, too, all over his shirt.

"I guess we've permanently ruined our friendship," she said, her eyes gleaming. "And possibly that shirt, too. Sorry."

"No, you're not." He took her face in his hands, and kissed her tenderly, and she responded with happy little sighs. "All the times I've imagined this… On the sofa getting worked up over a supervillain definitely wasn't one of the ways."

She laughed, and closed in as if she wanted to lean against him, before she thought better of it. "Let's get cleaned up, and then, maybe we can try watching something else. Or, if you're up for it, maybe getting into bed properly? I'd love to snuggle up with you." She paused, her brown eyes fixed on his. "I'd love even more to wake up by your side."

"Anytime, Iris." And he meant it.

He pulled her towards the bedroom, and she stopped him. Her face was completely serious. "Barry, fifth person on my list? Eddie."

"Believe me, Iris, if Eddie came back, I'd be the first to scoot over and make room for him on your side of the bed. It took me a long time to get there, but I loved the two of you together, how he made you smile. Actually," Barry looked down, "Eddie's smile? I'd kiss it off his face, too, if he'd let me."

Iris moved in for a kiss. "Funny that, don't you think? That we have such similar tastes in people?"

"That's because my taste in people is the best," Barry said, kissing her back fervently.


	2. The One With The Invitation

"Barry," Iris said when they were lying in bed getting ready to sleep, her fingers trailing across his chest lazily. "I know we talked about threesomes, but do you ever think about something… More?"

"Like what? Group sex? Because that feels like a lot of work to me."

"Don't be silly," she said, tickling him. He laughed, and caught her hand for a kiss. "I'm wondering if you've ever thought about polyamory."

"Sure. I've also thought about Joe's head exploding if he'd ever hear about it."

Iris chuckled, but didn't argue the point. "He may be pretty much the only family we have left, but my dad doesn't make the rules. We do. If you and I, as consenting adults, decide that we want a girlfriend or a boyfriend, that's none of his business. So, tell me, Barry Allen, what do you want?"

He looked away, needing to think this through, to make his thoughts line up. The holes in the ceiling, where the last tenants of this apartment had hung a lamp, caught his eye, and he followed the tiny cracks radiating outwards. They should probably repaint. But he wasn't looking up to get distracted by mundanities, he was looking away so that Iris' beautiful eyes wouldn't distract him from this relationship discussion.

"I'm afraid to lose you, Iris. We've only had each other for a month. I'm not looking for an excuse to find someone else, when I'm perfectly happy with you. I feel like I can be monogamous with you for the rest of my life, and not regret a thing." He paused for breath, willing his thoughts to slow down to normal person speed. Iris' long nails were gently scratching his abs, following the lines between the muscles. "But you know, Iris, that I fall in love at the drop of a hat. I know you do the same thing. And it's rarely just one person at a time, either. I love love."

"Me, too," she said. "That might have been why I've chased the new and shiny for so long. I'm in it for the long haul with you. Never doubt that, Barry. Once I got my feelings for you to make sense, I knew this was it. But I can feel like this for two people, maybe even three. I have felt like this for two people. I learned about polyamory when I was with Eddie, for a fluff piece in the Sunday paper, but you two were so angry with each other back then that I never dared to bring it up with him."

She cuddled up to him, leaving a slow line of barely there kisses across his chest. He finally looked down, watching the woman he loved. He knew better than to touch her hair, so he traced the spiral of her ear down to the lobe instead. Her earrings were out for the day, stashed in a pile with several other pairs on the nightstand on her side. They hadn't moved in together, but she was in the gradual process of leaving all her stuff in his apartment, so it was just a matter of time.

"What you're saying," Barry said, after letting his thoughts percolate to the surface, "is that none of us are looking, but if the right person shows up, we're open to it?"

"Sounds good. As long as we're open and honest with each other, and then we can deal with any issues as they show up." She smiled at him, that open and bright smile that felt like the sun breaking through the clouds. He couldn't resist dragging her down for a long and slow kiss, enjoying her supple lips against his. When she pulled back, her lips were wet and swollen from kissing, and he knew that if he let this go on, they'd have sex again. He considered his options, and drew her closer, holding her tight. Why not?


	3. The One With The Sharks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He went _back in time_ to find Snart again, would it be so bad to get one kiss before he died? (Iris approves, and shows it.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the first scene seems familiar, it's my fic [Why Don't We Just Pretend?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15620109) I've always felt like that scene was a part of a bigger story, and this is me, telling that bigger story.

"Call me sentimental," Snart said, "but I think the Flash should remain a hero."

He carefully brushed his gloved hand over Barry's shoulder. This was the most they've ever touched outside of battle, and it broke Barry's heart to think that it was the most they ever would touch. In just a few weeks, personal time, Snart would give his life to save free will and the fabric of space and time. Barry looked at the ground beneath them, a washed out green-brown mat of taiga grass and dead leaves. He took a deep breath and looked Snart in the eyes. Seeing nothing but a challenge, he stepped closer to his former enemy.

Snart didn't back away. If anything, he leaned in. Barry lifted his gloved hand to Snart's cheek. The last time they ever saw each other. His eyes flicked to Snart's lips, involuntarily, and Snart raised an eyebrow in reply.

Barry touched his lips gently to Snart's, a ghost of a kiss. He had wanted this, but the time had never been right. Snart deepened the kiss, grabbing Barry's hair and pulling him in, and Barry couldn't resist giving back. He couldn't tell which one of them had been the first to slip the other a bit of tongue, but he definitely didn't complain.

All too soon, Snart pulled away.

"My, my, what will Iris say?"

"She'll understand." Eventually. Barry raised his hand again, and stroked those beautiful cheekbones. "Take care of yourself, Snart."

It was a lie. He knew, and he knew that Snart knew, that time was running out for him. Barry knew better than to underestimate Snart's intelligence, and the reason for going back in time must have been perfectly clear to him.

"No strings on me," he said, and Barry couldn't look him in the eyes any longer. He ran. "No strings on me," echoed in his mind.

***

He came back, and Iris was gone, taken by the impostor wearing his face. Together, he and his team saved her life, at the cost of H.R's. Barry wanted to twist Savitar's neck, see his own face torn apart by pain, feel the lifeblood run out in his hands. Snart's words rang in his mind. "I think the Flash should remain a hero." He didn't exactly feel like one right now.

The day had felt like four days smashed into one, with no night in between, but it finally ended. He clung to Iris, holding her so tight she nearly couldn't breathe. She cried, and he cried, and it was all an ugly mess.

When they had no more tears left, Iris dried their faces, and they kissed. Desperately. Then passionately. Then Barry was crying again, and the kisses turned into something comforting, something slow. He held her cheeks, wishing she'd never leave this bed again. She squeezed his arms, his shoulders, anything she could reach.

The kisses reminded him of the one he'd shared earlier, and he wanted to tell her, but at the same time, he wanted to be completely focused on his fiancée. Something must have shown in his face.

"You're worrying about something, Barry." He looked down, knowing that she knew him well enough to not fall for any excuses.

"I kissed Leonard Snart today," he mumbled. There. It was out in the world.

"Oh. My. God! What was it like?!"

"Wait, you're not jealous?" He looked up at her, and she was grinning, widely.

"He's on the List. Pre-approved. And honestly, I can't blame you. You went  _ back in time _  to pick him up before his death. Of course I'm glad you took the chance. Tell me, Barry, was he just as good a kisser as you've always thought?"

Barry could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. "Yeah…" he said in a small voice. "It was so good, you have no idea. It felt like he wanted it just as much as I did."

Iris stroked him just above the lining of his sleep pants, following the curve from one of his hip bones to the other. "Just a peck?"

He smiled, and laid back, covering his eyes with his forearm. "More like making out. I had to make the most of it. Iris, his lips were so soft."

Careful fingers lifted the elastic, moving slowly along the lines of muscle over his pelvis. "Did you get hard?" Iris asked, as she came closer and closer to his hardening cock. She was half-lying on him, her thigh between his, pressing his legs apart.

"No, I was worried about you, and I think I was mourning him, too. It was a little unreal, to meet him from his past. I miss him."

"Of course you do. And he was jealous of me, I could tell. Did you tell him we're poly?"

"No time. I said you probably wouldn't mind me kissing him, but I thought you'd be more upset that we didn't talk about it beforehand." Barry gasped, as Iris grasped his cock firmly.

"On the List, so it's okay." She moved slowly, rubbing Barry's thighs between hers. She came up for a kiss, a slow and passionate one with both tongue and teeth. He took a firm hold of the globes of her ass under her nightgown, pressing her closer, and then ran a finger along the line where ass turned into thigh, one of her most sensitive areas. One last lick into her mouth, and he pulled away, grinning. Not even a second later, they were both naked.

"Cheat," she scolded, no heat in her tone. "Didn't we say no powers in bed?"

"That's not what you say when I vibrate."

They both laughed, and she climbed on top of him, holding her folds apart as she settled onto his cock with a sigh. He halfway sat up, to get one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand, and she started riding him with a determined pace.

"Hold me, Barry. Hold me tight. I need to feel that you're here." Her ankles locked behind his back, and he pulled her closer, ever closer.

"I'm not going anywhere. I love you so much."

She came with a choked off cry, and once the climax was wearing off, she was cry-laughing, all tension going out of her body at once.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"No, it's okay, I'm not hurting. Just… overwhelmed."

It still didn't feel right to have sex with someone who was crying, and he was pretty sure she'd be oversensitive very soon, too. He pulled out, and with his own hand around hers working him fast, it didn't take much for him to come, either.

Afterwards, he couldn't stop touching her, holding her, just being there with her. It was Iris who said it was enough, and that she needed to get some sleep. She laid down on her side, and nestled into his embrace with a sigh. One arm around her belly, perfectly still, she allowed him, and he used that little piece of skin against skin for comfort.


	4. The One With The Lesbian Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Remember when we did this all the time? Just the two of us, snuggling in your bed. You had a Beyoncé poster on the ceiling, right by the one of Rosalind Franklin? I can't believe I thought you just appreciated strong women."_
> 
> In which Iris finds out that Barry and Lily had a "hopeless crush on Iris" club in high school, and nobody told her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AU where Martin Stein lives, just because.
> 
> The idea of this pairing comes from the Flarrowverse Shipyard Discord server, where we discussed if Iris, Barry and Lily would have been in high school together, and decided "why not?"

Iris sipped her champagne, feeling out of place. She knew Sara Lance, vaguely, but the Legends were closer to Barry than to her. They'd still invited them all to their own wedding. Even Mick Rory, who clashed with all the guests from Barry and Joe's day job, and hadn't that been a laugh and a half to sort out? So, she guessed it was courteous, if nothing else, of Sara to invite them both and the whole Team Flash to her wedding at the Queen mansion.

The brides were gorgeous, Sara in her tight white tux, modeled after her superhero suit, with a light blue turtleneck shirt, and Ava in a sleek, asymmetrically cut, embroidered white dress, that flattered her long silhouette. Iris considered lining up for a dance with either one of them, but she knew she'd be waiting for a very long time. She scanned the dance floor for other potential partners. Barry was dancing with Caitlin and Cisco with Thea Queen, both pairs laughing and making small talk. Oliver and Felicity were both busy with making the wedding run smoothly, and Iris couldn't help a small, vindictive bubble of joy. Why should they be enjoying themselves when they had inserted themselves into her and Barry's wedding? What goes around comes around, she thought.

"Iris?" she heard from behind her. She turned around, and saw Lily Stein, looking just as awkward as she herself felt.

"Lily!" She wanted nothing more than to hug her old friend, but she knew Lily was reserved in public, so she stretched out her fist for their traditional fist bump instead. "Flower power?"

"Flower power," Lily said with a grin, as she met Iris' fist with her own. "Good to see you. Haven't seen you since your first attempt at a wedding."

Two years later, now that her father was fully healed from his injuries and the invasion seemed like a bad dream, they could joke about it. Iris had actually seen Martin and Clarissa more often than Lily since she got involved in Flash business, which was all kinds of weird. She couldn't help looking her friend over, and damn, did she look good. Lily had always had an androgynous charm, slim and dapper in her fitted jackets and shirts with ribbon bow ties, but today, she went all out with a black women's tux and a wing tip collar shirt. Her bow tie was emerald green, and she wore a matching handkerchief in her pocket. Iris realized with a sudden shock something she should have seen when she was much younger. Lily definitely didn't dress like a straight woman.

"Wanna dance?" Iris asked.

"I haven't danced since our prom, but sure," Lily said, leading Iris by the hand to the dance floor.

"You need to keep up the skills for when Stockholm calls," Iris teased, more than half serious. "Can't go to the Nobel banquet and not dance." Lily smiled, genuinely, as she twirled Iris in a slow waltz. Iris had made Barry and Caitlin explain Lily's research more than once, and she had been angling to write a profile on her for the CCPN. The nanotech stuff went far above her head, but she knew it was revolutionary.

"I never got a chance to say it, but I'm so happy for you and Barry." Lily closed her big blue eyes, never losing a single beat. "He won, fair and square." Her smile had turned sad.

"Are you saying…?" When they were in high school together, they had been close friends, the two of them and Barry, until Iris and Jennifer started dating.

Lily looked up, intensely focused on Iris, reading something in her face, and moved in to dance cheek to cheek. "We were both hopelessly gone on you," she whispered. "We didn't just bond over science, you know."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you were straight. And then, well… She wasn't me."

Iris touched her friend's cheek, and Lily leaned in, sobbing softly. It wasn't a fresh hurt, she could tell. Wasn't the first time she'd cried over her, and that broke Iris' heart. She could feel the quiet tears roll down her own face, silently thanking her foresight to use waterproof makeup. They had long since stopped dancing, and were just swaying in each others' arms. She couldn't tear her gaze away from Lily's pale eyes. Watery, but still so determined. Iris closed the distance between them, kissing her cheek gently.

"I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't know."

"Would you have…?" Lily asked. "No," she turned away, "I can't start thinking about what could have happened. I'm married now."

"Wait, don't go." Iris grabbed her arm. She needed to get this out before it was too late. "We're poly. It's not too late."

"What do you want, Iris? One time, just for the road?"

"Honestly? I don't know. I would be happy just knowing what it's like, and being your friend. But if you want more, I think it could work." She looked down. "You were always so smart and pretty. I never thought I had a chance, didn't even dare to think about it. Thought you'd want someone like Barry."

"No offense," Lily laughed, "but you're the only one who wants Barry." She caught Iris' chin, and turned her head, to look into her eyes again. "I was always more interested in women, anyway. Rick is a bit of an exception."

"So what do _you_ want?"

"I want you. But I don't want a meaningless wedding hookup. I want to be with you. But I think we both need to talk to our respective husbands first. Meet me in the third guest room on the second floor, in an hour. No matter what we decide."

Iris didn't run, and she was proud of that, but her steps were hurried when she went to find Barry. He was dancing with Felicity this time. She didn't feel the jealousy she used to feel about the two of them, just a happiness that they could be good friends after everything that had happened. (She did feel a jolt of irritation over her own wedding, though, and that wasn't likely to abate any time soon.)

As the superheroes in attendance saw her walking with a purpose, several of them started feeling for their weapons. She tried to wave them down, but it wasn't easy.

"Barry?" He turned in her direction. "I just need to borrow you. Sorry, Felicity."

Barry kissed Felicity's hand, and they left the room arm in arm. He looked so good in his best suit. They sat down by a flower portal on the patio, metal outdoor chairs hard and cold against her thighs.

"So," she started. "I talked to Lily."

"Oh, how's she doing? How's little Ronnie?"

"Well, that wasn't what we were talking about. Apparently, you and her had a 'hopeless crush on Iris' club, and nobody felt the need to tell me anything about it."

Barry rubbed the back of his neck. "It wasn't my secret to tell you? I don't even know if you knew she was… Well, she used to say she was a lesbian, but I'm not sure that's how she identifies now, since she's married to Rick. I don't know if you knew she was into women."

Iris blushed, feeling silly. "I figured it out today. I guess I'm just slow, and not very used to flirting with women."

"I guess we're just completely hopeless at being bi, the both of us," Barry laughed, bringing her in for a hug. "I'm not sorry I kept her secret."

Iris fiddled with her wedding ring, thinking about what those vows meant to her. And what Lily meant to her, even after drifting apart for so long. "Barry, I know we haven't had anything serious planned, trying to be poly in a more active way. But I want to be with her. I want to be Lily's girlfriend, while both of us have someone else to come home to. And I know she's interested, too."

"What are you waiting for? Go! Just come back to have breakfast with me tomorrow, and bring her, too, so we can catch up."

She grabbed his face for a long, slow kiss. When she reluctantly pulled away, he smiled at her, that gorgeous, thousand watt smile of his. She could feel herself returning it, feeling so incredibly lucky her husband was willing to let her do this. No hiding, no cheating, just him being happy for her, and she being happy to meet one of her oldest friends in a new way.

***

One hour exactly after they had left each other, Iris knocked on Lily's guest bedroom door, and was invited in.

"So, uhm, Barry is okay with us. He encouraged me. What did Rick say?"

"'Don't let me do all the child rearing while you're off with your girlfriend,' which is his way to say he's okay with us." Lily smiled, and opened her arms, and it was as if no time at all had passed since they were hanging out in their teenage rooms. Iris laughed, and went over to cuddle up together.

"Remember when we did this all the time? Just the two of us, snuggling in your bed. You had a Beyoncé poster on the ceiling, right by the one of Rosalind Franklin? I can't believe I thought you just appreciated strong women."

Lily laughed at her, that high-pitched laughter she hid when she was out in public. "I can't believe you. You're incredible, Iris. Incredible." She leaned in, slowly kissing Iris' cheek and moving towards her mouth. The first touch of her lips was soft, tentative, and Iris responded slowly, feeling that electrical jolt of a first kiss. Somehow, even with all her conversations with Barry about polyamory, she never expected to get another first kiss again. Without thinking, she opened her mouth, inviting Lily in, and she didn't wait to deepen the kiss.

Soft, small hands stroked her arms, her shoulders, and then finally her breast, ghosting over the clinging fabric of her blue dress. She let herself feel, too, let her hands drift over Lily, everywhere from her shoulders to her waist, feeling the silk of the tuxedo's waistline. Lily nudged a thigh between Iris', hitching her skirt up and settling in on top of her. It was such a wonderful feeling, nothing like making love to a man. Iris took a deep breath, kissing down Lily's neck to her shoulder and biting gently, and grabbed her butt with both hands, pulling her in closer.

Lily gasped, her hips moving slowly in tiny circles, Iris rising to meet her with her own. The pressure felt so good. Lily tried to get the shoulder straps down, without much success.

"Zipper," Iris said, between kisses, turning slightly and offering up her back. Lily kissed her shoulders as she pulled it down, gently peeling the fabric from her skin. A subtle snap told her Lily had found her bra clasp and unhooked it.

"Advantage: women, right?" Lily asked, with a hint of a mischievous grin.

Iris giggled, and nodded in silent agreement. She fell back down, reclining and opening her arms, but Lily decided to kiss her breasts before going back. She took one nipple gently into her mouth, stiffening it to a peak, and bit. Iris moaned, throwing her head back into the pillows and offering up both her breasts. Lily accepted eagerly, moving from one to the other, and then caressing the underside. Iris hadn't known that was such a sensitive area, but she was happy to explore. Once more, Lily had her clothed thigh up against Iris' pussy, and Iris took the chance to grab Lily's ass and thrust up. As their movements became more heated, they touched and kissed whatever they could reach. It didn't take long until Lily buried her face in Iris neck as she twitched and came with a muffled scream.

"How about you?" she asked when she got her breath back.

"If you want to, I…" She cleared her throat. "I'd love it if you'd eat me out."

This time, Lily's grin lit up the room. "All you have to do is ask," she said, shimmying down the bed and removing Iris' panties on the way. Her nails were a bit too long for comfort, and she kept them away from Iris' pussy, using them to rake across the inside of Iris' thighs. Her tongue played, never long in the same place, peeking in between Iris' folds and then up again towards her clit. When Iris could no longer lie still, when she was lifting her pelvis towards Lily's face, she went in harder and sucked. Steady pressure from the back of Lily's fingers against Iris' lips accompanied the suction, and Iris came, at the last minute covering her mouth.

Afterwards, they lay in a heap on the disheveled bed, half dressed. Lily had unbuttoned her shirt, to let Iris trail slow spirals across her chest.

"Can you believe how much more fun we could have had in high school if I had been only a tiny bit more observant?" Iris asked, looking up at the ceiling again, and Lily giggled and kissed her cheek.


	5. The One With The Ballroom Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iris goes out to investigate a corrupt politician, but finds herself as the arm candy of a certain thief, who's back to life and planning something big.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of biphobia in this, a woman who used to be interested in Len, who thought he was gay. If you want to skip that, the scene begins with _"Mr Snart," a woman's voice interrupted._ You can start reading again at _"I have another request," he said, his eyes sparkling again._

Iris fixed her lipstick and straightened her red dress. She just  _ knew _  there was something wrong with Cecelia Stieberg's candidacy. The woman had come up from nowhere, and now she was running for governor, with endorsements from a lot of people who had been enthusiastic about her opponent and suddenly changed their minds. It was definitely not about her platform, which was bland and in line with the party, down to the smallest details. She had literally no profile issues, no connection to any grassroots movements, no known affiliations with the political families. She was a riddle, and one that Iris fully intended to solve. She just needed to get into her fundraiser first. Deep breath, and then, time to wear her most ditzy smile and lie her way in.

She didn't have time to put on the fake bimbo look, before a firm hand grabbed her arm. "Play along, Ms West-Allen," said a familiar voice, one she hadn't heard in years.

"Snart!" she whispered behind a controlled facade. "When did you get back?"

"Just in time to save that pretty face of yours," he replied, barely audible. She looked at him for the first time, and he wore a smile that was just as fake as hers, and a really flattering blue suit under a trench coat. With a flourish, he took her hand and kissed it, before tucking it in by his elbow. They walked up to the security guards, and she could see they were heavily armed, and not likely to fall for a pretty face.

"Snart, plus one," he said, delivering an invitation on thick, creamy paper. One of the guards took it, read it closely, and let them pass. They strolled leisurely on the well raked white gravel paths up to the mansion, Iris' fingers twitching with excitement over getting in and a desperate need to know what Snart's plans were. He huffed a laugh, barely there, and rested a gloved hand on top of hers, calming her down. He lead her out of earshot of the guards and the milling couples in the garden.

"You got made, my dear," he said, when he had made sure nobody could hear, his breath warming her ear in the cold winter night. "They were about to haul you off for questioning. Ironic, considering your profession, but I'm afraid these people take 'hard-hitting' to a different level than you do."

"Are you saying I should be thankful for the white knighting?"

"Please, Ms West-Allen, I'm a gray knight at best."

She raised an eyebrow. "Call me Iris, please. I think we should be on a first name basis if I'm your… What? Date? Arm candy? Escort?"

Something between a smirk and a smile twitched at his lips. "Well, then, call me Len. And arm candy has a nice ring to it."

"Speaking of rings, can I have mine back? Don't think I didn't notice that you took them when you kissed my hand."

"If we both get out of here alive, you'll get them back, I promise. Can't have you blowing our cover with a wedding ring, when I don't wear one."

It made all kinds of sense, she had to give him that. Damn him. Not only was he smooth, he was all too good at planning.

"I was hoping to expose a corrupt politician, but I get the feeling there's more to the story here than trading votes for favors."

He just smirked, the bastard.

The inside of the mansion was amazing. A large room, open to the ceiling, set up as a ballroom with a live orchestra, and twin stairs framing the room. People were mostly standing around talking and drinking champagne, but a few couples were dancing. She had been a reporter for years, and she only recognized a few guests. This wasn't a usual high society affair. Well, if it had been, Len wouldn't have been invited. She didn't recognize any high profile criminals either, though. Len lead her to the dance floor, holding out his hand and inviting her into his arms, and she gladly took the invitation. He held her close, as they swirled around in a slow waltz.

"If you're not telling me your plans, can you tell me how you got back? Because I know someone who misses you."

He shot her a quick, surprised look, and she tilted her head. She must be dealing with the two emotionally densest men in the universe.

"Nora Darhk and Constantine tried to raise a demon --- long story, don't ask --- but they got me instead." Len caught her eyes, and his blue-green ones were shining with mirth. When he continued, his voice was lighter, less controlled. "Probably because Mick was in the circle. My partner has a strong will, and he told me later he had been missing me. So, there I was, naked as the day I was born, in the middle of a protective circle, when Mick broke the circle to tackle me in a hug. And then punch my lights out. When I came back to consciousness, still naked, they had banished all but one of the escaped hellhounds."

"I don't believe a word you're saying, since you're a self-confessed liar, but that's a great story. Why haven't you shown your face in the city?"

He smirked again, infuriatingly, and she added up the metaphorical numbers.

"Let me guess. No, let me postulate. You're solidifying your hold on the Rogues and your territory, and making plans for a really big comeback heist?"

"Always knew you were the brains in the family," he said, and she swatted his shoulder weakly, just to let him know it wasn't okay to say that about Barry. He chuckled and moved his hands from her shoulder to her back, pulling her closer. His broad chest was warm and comfortable. "How far are you prepared to go for a scoop?" he whispered.

"I have my lines," she said, pulling away to meet his eyes. He raised both eyebrows, but the gesture didn't speak of surprise, more like an acknowledgement of their differing moral standards. She leaned in again, mumbling into his silk shirt. "But I can go pretty damn far, if the story is good enough."

"Then you're in for a treat, Iris," he drawled, taking her hand and spinning her around until her back was against his chest, and his arm around her belly. It was a blatantly erotic gesture, and she played along, dragging her fingers slowly up and down his arm and leaning back. She tilted her head, and he bowed down to rub his stubble on her neck.

"Mr Snart," a woman's voice interrupted. Damn, Iris had been so mesmerized by his charm that she forgot to pay attention to her surroundings. Len let go of his tight grip, but managed to get his arm around her shoulders instead. She sighed, wishing they could be pressed up against each other again, and not just side to side. The middle aged woman, beautiful with her dark skin and straight hair, was wearing far too many diamonds and a purple floor length dress with a slit up to the thigh. She barely spared Iris a glance.

"Ms Ramirez," Len said, nodding politely.

"What's with  _ her?" _ she asked, a tone of ice in her voice as she gestured towards Iris, still without looking her in the eyes.

"Old flame of yours?" Iris asked acerbically, deciding that a good attack was the best defence. 

"I thought you were gay, and so did my brother, but I guess you just used him." She ignored Iris, focusing her annoyance on Len.

Len smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. "Equal opportunity. Liked him better than you, is all. Until he stabbed me in the back over a Monet painting." He looked at something in the distance. "I have no quarrel with you, Ms Ramirez. I don't blame you for his actions, but don't think for a second I've forgotten what your brother did." He let Iris go, only to take her hand. "If you'll excuse us."

They escaped to the buffet tables, and he swiped two glasses of champagne on the way over there.

"Counted on running into old acquaintances," he said softly, leaning into her, "didn't count on  _ her. _ Helena can hold a grudge, and she's likely to talk. We need to move the plan up. Can you play drunk?"

"No problem," Iris said with a smirk, meeting his eyes.

"I have another request," he said, his eyes sparkling again. "Are you prepared to distract the guards?"

"What did you have in mind?"

His fingers trailed the hem of her short sleeve, and looked away. "Most people will avoid looking at others kissing."

"A classic," she said, with a muffled laugh. "I used to do that with Barry, when we were in high school, and we sneaked into places we shouldn't be."

"Didn't think you were interested in him back then," Len replied. "From what I've heard, the Scarlet Speedster had a rather long dry spell before you finally gave in."

"Sure, and that's the thing. You don't have to use that technique often, but it helps to do less than legal stuff with someone you can imagine kissing in an emergency."

He pulled her closer, and they moved slowly towards a side passage, leading away from the ballroom. They were playing drunk, giggling into their glasses of champagne. When they reached a secluded corner, close to the door to the passage, he turned, gazing deep into her eyes with that laser focus of his. 

"We're doing this?" he asked, and she nodded in reply. He leaned in, and she closed her eyes as he kissed her softly, just a touch of lips that left her wanting more. Then he withdrew, and smirked again. "Your kisses are just as delicious as your husband's," he said, watching her intently for a reaction.

She decided not to give him the one he clearly wanted. Instead, she took hold of his neck and pulled him down to whisper in his ear. "Did you think I didn't know? He kissed you, saved my life, and then he came home to tell me. And let me tell you, we had some of the best sex we've ever had that night."

"We're coming back to this conversation," he said, firmly, looking at her like he was tempted to both talk and do other things. "If we get out of here alive."

"Lead the way, Len," she said, and let herself be led into the shadowy hallway.

Len seemed to know exactly what he was looking for, even as he stumbled around fake drunk. She giggled under her breath, waving her half empty glass around. At the third door to the left, he pressed her up against it, strong thigh rubbing against her pelvis. With both her arms around his neck, she stretched up for a kiss, and he obliged, agile tongue running along the seam of her lips until she opened up for him. The happy little noises she made would have been embarrassing, if anybody could hear them, but so far, no guards had made their presence known. One of his hands was working behind her back, and the other was following the curve of her breast with a barely there touch. She tried to deepen the kiss even further, but he drew back and smiled at her. Pulling her closer, he opened the door and dragged them both into the darkened room.

With a click, that sounded far too loud in the silence, he locked the door behind them.

"You wanted a scoop? Help me dig through her ledgers. Look for anything marked with an S in the margins." 

They worked in silence, each looking through the thick, handwritten volumes. The S:es were far between, but for each and every one, Len made her take a picture of the whole page. After working their way through two books each, Iris felt more comfortable with scanning the pages for anything out of the ordinary. Dates, abbreviations, numbers, they all flowed past her eyes rapidly. One particularly large sum caught her attention, and she pointed it out to Len. He grinned like the cat that got the cream, and he wanted photos of the whole month for that transaction.

He stilled her movements with an outstretched hand. A thumping, rhythmic sound came from outside the door. Boots, marching to a steady beat, a beat she was so very familiar with. Before she knew what happened, Len had hidden the books and swept her up to sit on the table. He was standing between her spread legs, and leaned in to kiss and nibble at her earlobe.

"I heard," she breathed. "Police, or used to be." The steps had stopped just outside the door, and the lock clicked. She wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him in closer and angling in for a real kiss. This kiss was hotter and deeper, almost filthy, with their tongues entwined and their lips barely connecting. She nibbled on his lower lip, already swollen and wet. He moaned, probably louder than the occasion called for, and took a firm grip of her breast. 

Len bit down on her neck, and whispered. "Dirty cop. Tell you later." He licked a long line up her neck, and she couldn't help digging her nails into his back as she bent her head back and moaned.

Their obvious entanglement didn't seem to make their observer go away, so she decided to play it up even more.

"Oh, Len, right there!" She was ridiculously wet, turned on by the danger and the attractive criminal moving against her. She was also clearly not the only one who was turned on.

"We've got ourselves a peeping tom," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "He's not leaving."

She reached down between them to rub his cock. "Well, then, let's give him a show," she whispered.

Len raised a questioning eyebrow, and she smiled back, taking his hand in hers and dragging them both up along her thigh. When he got the point and started caressing her on his own, she went back to stroking his cock. It was nice and thick, and she wondered how it'd feel in her hand.

"You want my cock, Iris?" he said, looking like the cheesy line was physically painful to say. 

She licked her lips and reached up to kiss him again. "I prefer those fingers of yours," she stage whispered, loud enough to be heard across the room. "So clever hands, I want to see what you can do with them…"

His long fingers circled her pussy, never quite where she wanted them. Out of pure frustration, she pulled his zipper down, maybe a bit too hard, to get a good grip. The hard length in her hand, the velvety skin, the drop of precome beading at the tip, it cured her frustration.

"Careful," he chuckled, "this suit cost me more than your mortgage payment." 

"How… Nevermind, I don't want to know," she said. Finally, his fingers were hitting their target, working their way in under her underwear, and she couldn't form words any longer. Careful fingers with short, well-manicured nails breached her and twisted upwards with slow pressure. She moaned, shameless and loud, only exaggerating slightly for their audience. One twist of her wrist, and that changing speed thing Barry liked so much, and Len was right there with her, huffing out his breath against her neck, and pressing down with his thumb on her clit.

The orgasm took her by surprise, and she didn't care about danger or voyeurs anymore. She just arched up into Len's embrace and rode his fingers with everything she had. 

He pressed kisses to her cheek, and once she came down, he let her go. With a mischievous smirk, he licked his fingers and sucked them clean. She shook her head, trying to not get mesmerized by his eyes again.

"He left when you came," Len said, still smirking.

It took her a while to catch the pun, but when she did, she slapped his arm in annoyance.

"Want a hand with that?" she asked, pointing to his still obvious erection, now hidden away again.

He chuckled, and shook his head. "I'll try to cool down on my own. But we need to get out of here, before he goes to find reinforcements."

The window alarm was no match for his skills, and they climbed out the window without attracting any more attention. He even managed to sneak in and pick up their coats, before they left, as if nothing had happened.

"You've got to tell me, now. I've got the pictures."

"Good for you, Iris. I've got an eidetic memory." But he seemed to soften a bit, considering her request. "The pages I asked you to take pictures of? Bribes to the police. 'S' for 'swine,' because 'pig' shares the first letter with police. You've got one hell of a story right there, as soon as you can find confirmation. But the large sum you found all on your own? That, my dear, is a smoking gun, almost literally. It's payment for an assassin."

Iris gasped in surprise. Corruption, in Central City? Sure. But a political candidate paying for a murder? That was out of the ordinary.

He turned serious. "I know you're likely to rush into this, trying to find more details, to confirm the story, but I have to ask you to let me handle it. I'm not sure exactly who this assassin is, and I'm well aware that my life is in danger until I figure this out." He huffed a breath, almost like a laugh. "But by all means, do tell your husband. You need to stay safe, and he's your best bet." Like a magic trick, he opened his hand and held out her wedding and engagement rings. 

She debated internally, but eventually came to the conclusion that he was mostly right. She was likely to rush in, and this was more dangerous than most of her investigative work. 

"I can agree to those terms, on one condition," she said, as she put the rings back on. "Have dinner with me and Barry, next weekend. Just the three of us, in our home, no superheroics or villainous schemes allowed."

He looked like he was considering the idea, but she suspected it was just a ruse, so he could bring up his fingers to his lips again. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing to her. 

"It's a deal, Iris."


	6. The Last One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Len comes for dinner and _dessert_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, hi, I did not forget this fic! But it's from Len's POV, and he was surprisingly hard to write. This is also, hands down, the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Added tags: Light Dom/sub, because there are some minor elements of that in here.
> 
> Thanks to Sandrine Shaw for reminding me to finish, and to SophiaCatherine for betaing.
> 
> Fun fact: The chapters of this fic have a widely varying length. 1.6k, 650 words, 1.1k, 2.2k, 3.1k and now a whopping 7k! Like I said, it was hard to write.

This was a bad idea, Len thought. This was such a bad idea. And yet, here he was, ringing the doorbell to the West-Allen residence, with a bottle of wine for the hostess. He'd spent the early evening going through his closet, looking for the perfect combination of casual and dressed up. What was he even doing here? He was just about to turn around and leave when he heard soft steps on the other side of the door.

"Len, you came!" Iris said, greeting him with a genuine smile and an unexpected hug. She stepped back, looking him over with appreciating eyes. "I think I more or less expected you to bail on us."

He was tempted to turn on the charm, to give her the best smoldering look and the kind of attention that usually made women melt into his arms. But no. This was Iris, bold and kind, someone he actually liked, and she deserved better. He decided to go for honesty. "You're not exactly wrong."

She stepped aside with a small, girlish giggle, and he took the invitation. Their loft apartment was spacious and modern, with a large open space kitchen and living room. That, he had known from studying the blueprints. (Still a thief. Still a nemesis of the Flash.) He hadn't expected just how cozy they had made it, how much the atmosphere reminded him of Detective West's house in the suburbs. The last time he was in their home, he was an intruder. Uninvited, most certainly not welcome, and definitely presumptuous, going through their kitchen to make a suitably dramatic entrance. This time, he was a guest, and, if he'd understood Iris' invitation properly, about to be welcomed into their lives. The difference couldn't be more stark, and it made his head spin. For him, the incident with the cocoa was less than a year ago. For Barry and Iris, it was more than five years, and he could tell they had changed a lot in that time.

"I need to get the chicken out of the oven. Barry's running late,  _ as usual, _ so just have a seat, and I'll be right there." Iris was talking faster than usual, barely catching a breath in between sentences, and he wondered if she was as nervous as he was. He chose to follow her into the kitchen area instead of sitting down.

"Do you need a hand?"

She was flitting about in the kitchen, moving between different dishes, and looking a bit disorganized. He wanted to help, but he didn't want to snoop in her kitchen. The cabinets were laid out in much the same way as in her father's house. He was willing to bet the novelty mugs were hidden behind those lesser used bowls on the second shelf from the top. Len had the confidence to charm his way into a Russian ice queen's good graces, but he had never learnt how to handle domesticity without feeling like an intruder or a creep. Well, not normal domesticity. Mick was a different beast (literally, given the way he handled his dirty socks and underwear), and the Legends got a pass, because there was nothing normal about a timeship.

"If you could cut the veggies for the salad, that'd be nice," she said, focusing on stirring a pot. It smelled savory and slightly tart, with a hint of spices. "I should have known better than to make risotto without a helping hand. You get so tied up with the stirring."

Iris tied up was a nice image to consider, but maybe not here, in the kitchen. He washed his hands, and started looking for the salad ingredients. "So, this whole 'rushing in without a plan' thing is a family trait?" he teased. 

Her laughter was warm and fond. "We might have had an influence on each other," she admitted. "But I'm not usually rash. Most of the time, I'm the one who's the voice of reason, when Barry wants to do things without thinking first."

As if saying his name summoned him, Barry appeared in a flash of lightning. Len tried to hide his deep inhalation, but Iris saw him and smirked. He had missed that scent of ozone.

"Sorry I'm late, there was just  _ so much _  to do at work. But I brought brownies from that place in Keystone that you like. Rocky Road for you, triple chocolate for me, and one of each for Snart, because I don't know what he likes." With that, he seemed to discover Len, who was leaning against the kitchen island. "Oh, hi, Snart…"

Len wondered if Barry always talked this fast before he got his powers, or if this was another side effect. 

"Hello, Barry. I never decline mini marshmallows."

Barry wove his hands together, rubbing his thumbs along the edge of his fingers, looking everywhere but at Len. The gesture made Len trace the contours of the countertop, both in sympathy and to calm down. Len was half of a mind to tell Barry to chill, bad pun and all, but he suspected that would make the rest of the evening more difficult than it had to be. He focused on Iris' hair cascading down her back, anything to reduce the tension of the moment, and tried to ask the question he had wanted an answer to since their recent adventures.

"Heard someone had been missing me." Well, it wasn't a proper question. He didn't have it in him to be that outspoken. Barry was usually good at picking up the things he left in the subtext, though. 

Before he could figure out what was happening, he had an armful of speedster.

"Yeah, you dork. I missed you so much," Barry mumbled into his neck. Cautiously, Len raised his hands to hug him back. "Don't ever do that again, you hear me?"

"No promises." Len felt the need to cover for the unexpected, even if he didn't have any plans to sacrifice himself ever again. He pressed his face down into Barry's shoulders, inhaling that ozone scent. Barry was warm, and solidly muscular, and Len never wanted to let him go.

A warm body draped against his from behind, too, and Iris' small hands stroked his sides. "You give a guy a reason to be a hero, and he loses all self-preservation." She let go, and looked sternly at them both. "Don't you dare, either one of you. Don't. You. Dare." She punctuated the scolding with a finger shaking in their direction, and fell silent, turning back to the pot.

The silence was awkward. Barry was still holding on to him, like a sloth clinging to a branch.

"If I promise I won't go looking for a way to get myself killed, will you let me go?"

"Mmm… Maybe," Barry said, still with his face in Len's neck. Len gave in to the temptation, and buried his hands in those long strands of brown hair, like he had wanted to do for so long.

He didn't know who initiated it, but a few seconds later, they were kissing. Hungrily, like they had kissed in the Siberian forest, devouring each other's mouths. Familiarly, like they had always been kissing, like this was something they'd done ever since Barry first donned that red suit. Len couldn't control his greedy hands, and he grabbed two handfuls of Barry's ass and lifted. Barry followed eagerly, his legs coming up to wrap around Len's waist. Len backed them both into the kitchen island, only distantly aware of the food that was resting there.

"Time out, time out," Iris said, her voice breathy and thin. "As hot as this is to watch, I worked for three hours on this dinner, and I am not seeing you two ruin it."

Barry jumped down, looking around sheepishly with his hand around the back of his neck. "Uh…"

Less than a second later, the table was set, the wine decanted, the salad cut, and the chicken sliced. Iris had a fond look on her face, and Len couldn't imagine being that used to superpowers in a domestic setting. As if he'd use the cold gun for making ice cubes. 

"Okay, this risotto is done, because I say it's done." One more swooshing sound, and the risotto was also in a bowl on the table, ready to be served. Barry gestured to a seat, and Len sat down. On the one hand, he was glad to be seated closest to the door, so he could run if he felt cornered. Pleasant kisses or not, he was still not sure what the hell he was doing here. On the other hand, not seeing the door was always something that stressed him out. He tried to get into a comfortable position, where he could both watch his dates and the door, but it didn't quite work.

"I'm sorry, I should have thought of that," Barry said, his eyes wide. He scrambled up, his whole body a collection of nervous tics. "I wasn't happy with my back to doors either, when I got out of prison. Take my seat."

Len raised an eyebrow at that. What had Barry done to end up in prison? Clearly, Gideon had left out a few details when she was catching him up on the events of the last five years. But he was thankful for the gesture, and swiftly moved into the other seat. That left him next to Barry, with Iris on the other side of the table. She smiled, and started serving up the chicken and risotto.

"You were busy when I was gone, I hear," he said, referring to all the other things that Gideon had told him about.

"You could say that," Barry agreed. "I wish we didn't have to be, but there's something about this city that seems to draw in supervillains of all kinds. I have to say, I miss fighting you and Mick. Those were simpler days…" There was definitely something wistful in his voice, but he didn't look up. 

Len took a bite, mostly to keep from talking. He immediately regretted his decision. The rice was undercooked and very crunchy, and the chicken was so overcooked and dry, it swelled in his mouth. He took a large gulp of wine to swallow it down, and must have made a face about it, because Iris looked at him like she was about to cry.

"I did it again, didn't I?" she asked, her voice wobbling with unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, honey," Barry said, pushing the plate away. "I'll go get takeout."

"No, this is on me,  _ I _  am the one who's going to get takeout." She left in a hurry, her coat not even buttoned.

Barry smiled a sad little smile at her retreating back, and rose to pick up the dishes at a normal speed. Len helped him in silence, and they sat down on the couch with their glasses of wine.

"I'm just curious," Len asked eventually, "if you knew this was going to happen, why did you let her spend all day in the kitchen?"

Barry swirled the wine in his glass, studying it intently. "She shows her love by cooking, and I accept that. She just happens to be a terrible cook."

Len laughed in surprise, and Barry joined him.

"...but I think that for any further first dates, I'm going to convince her to take that person out to eat instead. I know she wanted to impress you, and I think we've failed miserably."

Len couldn't help smiling. These two people, who were willing to go up against overpowered enemies with nothing but wit and grit (and super speed), and at the same time were totally hopeless at what the kids call "adulting." Iris: fearless reporter, incredibly brilliant and observant, and couldn't cook her way out of a paper bag. Barry: superhero, scientist on a team of genius scientists, and never on time for anything, despite his super speed. And both of them were terrible at flirting.

He knew he shouldn't get attached. Attachment lead to disappointment, in all but one case in his life. But he was definitely charmed already, and he could feel those dangerous vines of affection sneaking their way around his legs, creeping slowly upwards to his torso. But before deciding whether to succumb to them, or to cut and run, he needed the answer to one question. He turned towards Barry, leaning back with his foot on his knee.

"Barry, why are you doing this?" Why are you inviting  _ me _  into your perfect little urban apartment? What do you want with an old thief like me?

Barry smiled, and Len knew he was screwed.

"Well, I assume Iris told you we're polyamorous?" Len nodded, and Barry continued. "Did she also mention that the question first came up in a discussion about you? You were dead, then, and I still couldn't let go of my attraction to you."

_ "That _  was never mentioned, no. Was this before or after Siberia, for you?"

Barry blushed. "Before. How do you think I knew Iris wouldn't mind me kissing you? Well, we should probably have discussed it first, and I feel the same about her adventures with you, but you're on the List."

"Really? A cheat list?"

"It's not cheating if it's polyamory," Barry said, defensively. "But yeah. We were watching Friends when the discussion started." He laughed, and shook his head. "I never even liked Ross and Rachel. I never wanted to be so petty, when I was pining over Iris."

Len wanted to make a comment about the qualities Barry had that Ross lacked, but felt like it'd reveal too much. He bit his lip and took another sip of wine.

"You still haven't answered my question," he said, after a while. "Why me?"

Barry looked straight at him, with that dangerous smile of his. Oh, Len could drown in that smile if he'd let himself do it.

"Remember the first time we met?"

"When I killed the security guard?"

"No, before that. Remember when you were trying to get your goons under control out on the freeway, and one of them shot a security guard? Your mask fell off, and I saw your face." Len nodded, not entirely comfortable with this line of thinking. "I picked out your mugshot in the most wanted binder."

"Gee," Len interrupted, "this all sounds so romantic."

Barry tilted his head disapprovingly, and Len made a motion with his hand, encouraging him to go on.

"Joe told me the basics of your story, and I saw how that could have been me. A little bit less luck, a life in foster care instead of with the Wests, a father who was actually criminal and not wrongly convicted… Even our terrible names. I saw myself in you, and I knew you were more than just what everyone else thought about you."

Nothing of what he said sounded like a lie, and it was definitely not sugar coated. Len looked away, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He tapped his fingers on the knuckles of his left hand, counting. One-two-three-four, rapidly, over and over. He saw himself in Barry, too, but it was a funhouse mirror. Where he'd gone cold and ruthless, Barry had chosen to forgive. There was one burning question he needed an answer to.

"That is quite an impressive feat of empathy. And you never changed your mind, not even after I betrayed you?" Barry trusted, like a fool. He had always said he saw the good in Len, for some damn reason.

"Not really. Why do you think I came back to work with you again? Why do you think Gideon likes you?"

"Wait, Gideon?"

"I made her." A touch on his clunky watch brought out a familiar face.

"Greetings, Mr Snart."

"Gideon!" The blue, vector graphic face nodded in his direction, and he couldn't help grinning at her. It was Gideon! He'd missed her dry sarcasm.

"Not the Gideon you know, but we are connected. I was instructed to tell you that everyone on the Waverider is well, and that you would be welcome to return. Even 'New Girl' has let go of her grudge."

"Tell Mick thanks, but not now. Thank you, Gideon." Mick, with his nicknames, for everyone but him. He missed the Waverider, but he missed the crew he had joined, not all these new people he didn't know. (And Constantine could eat his ass. He hated that guy.) Gideon blinked out, leaving a blue glow in the air. "Impressive," he told Barry.

"I've always had a weak spot for you, and  _ you _  have been flirting with me since you first saw me on that train." Len conceded the point with a half-shrug. "It just took me far too long to realize it, and then it was too late." 

_ Too late. _  What he meant to say was  _ you died. _  Barry managed to say the words in a half-casual manner, without even a pause. Len knew that tone all too well. It meant that if they talked about it properly, it would dig up grief, and that Barry didn't want to go there. Which was fine, Len didn't want to go there either, but now he'd heard the subtext, and his mind had already supplied him with both guilt and grief. Barry had gone silent, and Len reached out across the back of the sofa, touching the tip of his fingers to Barry's.

Barry took a deep breath, shook his head, and continued. "If I had understood what I felt about you, I'd have pushed you up against the fireplace in a completely different way. And Iris? Well, shouldn't be a surprise that she thinks you're smoking hot, either." A small smile crossed his face, there and gone in a blink.

"Not after last weekend, no," Len admitted. He'd been surprised and delighted that she wanted to go along with his game, and he'd used the memory of her taste on his fingers to fuel his fantasies more than once since then.

Barry laughed, his head thrown back. "I still can't believe you got her off in front of someone, and that someone wasn't me." The amusement was unexpected. He knew Barry wasn't going to do the whole masculinity posture thing, that wasn't who he was, but he still expected some sort of jealousy.

Len heard something outside the door, and twitched involuntarily, and that gesture made Barry sit up straight. Then he was gone, and back again before Len could get up from the couch, takeout containers in hand. By the door, Iris was hanging up her coat, looking windswept, but much less like she was about to cry.

"Sorry about that."

"Nothing to apologize for," he told her, as she made her way to the couch, getting into place in the middle. "It was still better than prison grub."

Barry nodded in agreement, his mouth already full.

"Thanks," she said, her mouth twisting in a sharp, amused grin. She popped a container open, and it smelled delicious. "Pad Thai?" 

They ate Thai food and drank wine, and Iris moved closer and closer to him, ending up cuddled into his side by the time she'd finished her portion. Her feet were in Barry's lap, and he was running his fingers over her instep. She let out tiny sounds of delight, completely comfortable. He wondered, not for the first time, how an old thief like himself could have gotten so lucky. Her hair smelled like mango schampoo, and the scent mixed perfectly with the spices from the food.

"So," she asked, "if my food didn't work for seducing you, is there anything else we can try?"

"Not exactly playing hard to get. Just want to know what you want." There they were again, those dangerous tendrils of  _ feelings. _  He didn't want those feelings. He never asked for them, but they had decided to invite themselves into his heart anyway. A memory of Mick, still overshadowed by Chronos, flickered by.  _ We don't have hearts. _  If they wanted sex and nothing more, he'd fuck them and leave, and it would be the worst decision of his life. 

Iris stroked his cheek, dangerously affectionate. "I've had my shares of flings, and it's been fun. I have a long-time girlfriend, too," she said, her voice soft and sultry. "But Barry has never been casual. He  _ loves, _  and he loves too much, too fast."

"Iris!" he chided. "You're always the one who tells me not to say it." He blushed and looked away. "Can't believe you're spilling my beans like that," he muttered.

She poked him with her feet. "Maybe somebody needs to hear it."

Maybe he did. And maybe, it would be wisest to thank them politely and leave. That was clearly the rational option, and he was nothing if not cold and rational.

Except when it came to Barry Allen. From the moment his obsession with the Flash took hold, he hadn't been able to let him go.

Iris' body was heavy where it rested, half on his lap and half off, her firm butt pressing him down into the soft cushions. He could still move if he wanted to, but he'd be pushing her off the couch if he did. The seconds ticked away. One, two, three… He caught Barry's gaze, those shining green eyes glimmering in the soft light. Barry smiled, not the smile that could light up a room, but a small and private one. Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty… Len dragged two careful fingers along Iris' arm, following the thick cords of her knitted, off-white sweater. She shivered, moving delightfully on top of him. He nosed along her neck, enjoying the view of the column rising proudly from the cowl collar, and left tiny, closed mouthed kisses along the way.

Barry got up to his knees, crawling across the couch to kiss him. It was warm and soft, and the pressure of the both of them calmed his mind. He was always thinking, always planning, but now? His mind had quieted down, letting him enjoy the moment.

And what a moment it was! 

He wiggled his hands between Iris and Barry, carefully moving in under her sweater, never dropping contact with Barry's lips. Her breasts were small and round, perfect in his hands. Barry held on to his face, stroking slowly and gently, as if he was afraid Len was about to leave them.

He nipped at Barry's lower lip, breaking the lock. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured.

That was it. He showed his hand, made his move, took the dive.

Barry rested their foreheads together. "Good," he said. Just one word, but it promised so much. Their breaths mingled, and neither of them moved.

A wide grin spread across Barry's face. It was one Len had seen before, usually when either one of them was about to get his ass soundly beaten. Mischievous and not at all heroic, but oh, so goddamn attractive.

"Though I wouldn't mind going somewhere. The bedroom, specifically."

"By all means," Len replied, knowing full well that his own face matched Barry's.

Barry must have taken that as permission to flash them away, because the whole world lurched, and Len found himself on his back on their bed, with Iris laughing beside him. He leaned over, stealing a kiss and swallowing her laughter. It turned into soft, hushed moans as he pulled her on top of him, getting his hands full of that lovely ass.

"I definitely wouldn't mind a reprise of last week, but… Iris and I had made plans." Barry was watching them from the doorway, his eyes dark and his lips parted. He lifted his shirt, revealing a set of absolutely delicious abs, and he must have noticed Len staring. "Yeah, yeah," he said, with a self-deprecating laugh, "lightning gave me abs." He shimmied out of his tight jeans, and must have used his super speed to get in bed with them, because Len didn't notice him moving. The two of them blocked him in, Barry's body a wall of heat. Iris was colder, her bare feet like icicles, trailing up over his calves under his slacks.

"I was thinking I could blow you," Iris whispered, "while Barry puts his vibrating tongue to use for a rimjob."

Len would never admit that his reply consisted entirely of choked off noises deep down his throat. Barry leaned in for a deep kiss, all tongue and teeth. Was that…? Yeah, that was a demonstration of the vibration. Cool, cool, he could deal with this.

No, he couldn't. He broke the kiss, gasping for breath. "That's an unfair superpower," he complained, and Barry just grinned in reply.

"I haven't been with anyone other than Iris since my last STI test," he said, and why was that sexy? "I also don't think I can catch anything, because I haven't even had a cold since the lightning."

"I have a steady girlfriend," Iris said, working her jeans down her legs and lifting her arms to take the sweater off, "but she's not seeing anybody else, and I have a negative panel from two months ago. I'm not on the pill, though, so condoms are a must for anything penetrative."

"What's your comfort level?" Barry asked, looking him over hungrily. 

Fuck, they were gonna be the death of him. He was the only one still dressed, so he stood up to unbutton his shirt and trousers. "I've only been with Iris since I was revived, and Gideon did a thorough scan before I left. Still gonna go with condoms for everything but oral."

Iris plastered her naked body against his front, and Barry came up behind him, long, thin cock nestling between his cheeks. Barry stretched around Len's arms to kiss her, and they shared a significant Look before dropping to their knees, like they had choreographed the movement.

"Anything you want," Iris said, looking up at him through her lashes before she licked the head of his cock. The image of her on her knees made him wobble, and he took hold of the bedframe to avoid falling.

"Welcome to the relationship," Barry said, laughter in his voice. Len was almost too distracted by Iris' tongue to notice the long fingers stroking his hole, slicking him up with lube that was just a smidgen too cold. A characteristic rustling noise, followed by the feeling of latex against his skin, told him Barry was getting ready with the dental dam.

"God, your cock is so gorgeous," Iris said, low and sultry, and then she swallowed him down, down, down, her throat working around the head. One of her hands held tight around the base and the other fondled his balls. Barry held his cheeks apart, diving in with his tongue. Broad strokes first, and when Len started gasping, not knowing how to move to get the most pleasure, Barry brought his tongue to a point and started vibrating.

It was so good.

Too good.

Too much!

"Fuck!" Len shouted, already close to the brink. 

Iris grabbed the base of his cock hard, and let go with an obscene pop. "Wanna come down my throat, Len? Wanna let Barry fuck you once you're not oversensitive? Or do you want to fuck him while he goes down on me?" Her hand started moving again, slow and torturous, and her other hand was playing leisurely with her own folds. "You decide, Len."

Iris had given him a breather, but Barry had not. He was humming happily, his long fingers massaging the flesh of Len's ass and his mouth never letting up. Len knew he had to make up his mind quick, or this would be over far too soon.

"Fuck, just let me fuck him!" They stopped, once again in unison, and Len took a deep breath, trying to calm down. He turned towards Barry, bringing him up for a kiss. He tasted like latex, and it was still a great kiss. "I've wanted to fuck you since the first time I saw you in that red suit. God, that ass of yours! Those legs, I want them around my waist."

It might be the light, or it might be the exertion, but it looked like Barry was blushing. Len stroked his cheek, down towards his neck, and it was much hotter than the rest of his body. He backed them into a corner, pressing his tongue as far down Barry's throat as he could.

"You've had your tongue in my ass, and you're still blushing over a compliment?"

"Fuck you, Snart," Barry said, no heat in his tone.

Len couldn't help it. He loved their banter. "Again, you've had your tongue in my ass. Don't you think it's time to ditch the last names,  _ Allen? _

Barry collapsed against him in a boneless pile of laughter, his arms around Len's neck holding him up. "God, I love you," he laughed. Len could feel him stiffening, every muscle pulling itself taut, and he gave his reassurance in the only way he could, by kissing. He wasn't ready to say something like that himself, but he wasn't going to run just because Barry did.

After all, they had been falling together, cosmically slow, for years now.

He devoured Barry's mouth, working his fingers slowly down his spine towards that delicious, firm ass. Barry leaned away, catching his eyes for a short moment. His green eyes were twinkling with laughter, and before Len could prepare, he had Barry's legs around his waist. Len stumbled back a few steps, but he could do this. He could carry him to bed.

"That's so fucking hot," Iris said, sprawled out on the far side of the bed. "One day, I'm gonna get you two to hold me up and fuck me, both of you at the same time. I'm gonna climb you like a tree and ride you."

Barry groaned. "I love it when you talk dirty, Iris."

"Think you could get off from that, Red? Me fucking her, and both of us talking about it?"

"Mmmm, yeah," Iris said, her fingers working circles over her clit, "he could, if we tied him up."

Len grabbed Barry's ass even tighter, grinding into him, their cocks pressed between their stomachs. Barry threw his head back, humping Len's belly in short, desperate movements, until he came, panting and flushed.

"Don't worry, I'll be ready to go again in a minute," he said, when he was able to talk again. "Superpowers." He actually did jazz hands to illustrate, and Len couldn't help laughing at this absolutely ridiculous man. He gently put him down on the bed, next to Iris, who started lapping up his come. Len picked up the bottle of lube from the floor, where Barry had left it, and sat down on his knees between Barry's spread legs.

"Far be it from me to presume, but I suspect you want fast prep rather than slow?" Barry's whole body vibrated in response. "Fast it is, then," Len said, grinning as he slicked up his fingers. He met Iris in a deep kiss, her lips softer and plumper than Barry's. She tasted salty and bitter from Barry's come, and he wanted to eat it all from her mouth. He used one hand to stroke her breasts, and the other made its way to Barry's opening. Barry had put a pillow under his hips, and he lifted his ass invitingly. Fast was the goal, so Len pushed two fingers against the muscle, and it yielded immediately.

"Fuck, that's good… Iris told me about your fingers, and--- Aaah!"

Len curled his fingers, pressing insistently against Barry's sensitive prostate. He smirked, knowing full well that he was good with his hands. Iris' hands, so tiny and slim in comparison to theirs, encircled his cock, working him slowly. She paused to lick her palm, before going back, wetter and more comfortable.

One more finger, and Barry writhed and gasped. He wanted fast, but Len didn't want to hurt him. Those days were long gone. He leaned down, putting all his weight on Barry, and whispered in his ear. "If you're a good boy and take my fingers well, I'll give you my cock." 

"Please, please, I want you!"

"Say it again."

"Please, fuck me!" 

The words, and the desperate tone of Barry's voice, made Len shiver. He couldn't believe he was here, being allowed in, getting ready to do this. He twisted his fingers one last time, and withdrew to put a condom on. Iris smoothed it out, making sure it was snug and fitted, and held the base as he slowly worked his way in. Fastest man alive or not, he was not going to rush this. Inch by inch, he pressed in, watching Barry's face closely. His eyes were rolling back, but the rest of his body language didn't make it seem like he was in pain.

"Okay?" he asked, barely able to speak over his panting breaths.

"Oh, God, more!"

Slowly, slowly. Iris massaged his ass, trying to get him relaxed, but he needed to be alert. He could let go later. He leaned down, trailing kisses up Barry's neck. Slowly. All he wanted to do was to slam his hips, but he couldn't do that. Not yet.

Barry stretched his legs, and wrapped them around Len's back with deliberate precision. He caught Len's gaze, and winked.

Then he pulled, drawing Len inside him in one single movement.

"Oof!" he shouted, his breath pushed out of him. "Worth it. Come on, Len, move!"

"Not yet," Iris commanded. They both stilled, reacting immediately to the authority in her voice. "Not without me." She directed Len to a kneeling position, without him ever slipping out. Barry got another pillow under his hips, and one under his head. "I want to sit on your face," she told Barry, and he just grinned in reply and let his tongue peek out between his teeth. She moved into position, kneeling with her legs on either side of Barry's head, and leaning forward to kiss Len.

It was nearly too much again, and he kept their kisses to short, shallow nibbles. "Permission to board, Captain?" he asked, some of the sarcasm getting lost in his breathlessness.

"You're pretty damn boarded already," Barry said, his voice muffled between Iris' thighs.

Iris just pulled him closer, one hand on his back encouraging him to move, and Barry stopped speaking and started moaning incoherently. Iris ground her pussy on Barry's tongue, and Len lost all his control. He slammed into Barry, hands making short-lived bruises on his hips. Barry's hole started squeezing his cock, and Iris bent down to lend Barry a hand. Len wanted to make this last, make this a memorable first time, to fuck them long into the night.

He lasted two minutes.

When he rolled over, sweaty and sticky, to watch Iris start to come undone on Barry's vibrating tongue and fingers, he didn't regret it. For once in his life, he wasn't rushing out of bed afterwards.

He trailed the fingers of his clean hand gently from Iris' thighs, touching Barry's fingers between them. She was slippery with her juices and Barry's saliva, and his fingers easily found their way inside her. The two of them were moving in tandem, working together like they had never done anything else, like they never had been on opposite teams. Iris rode them, bucking wildly in a powerful orgasm, until she abruptly told them to stop.

"Ugh, so sensitive," she complained, settling down to lie between them. She was still shaking with aftershocks, but refused their careful touches. Len pulled her closer, and she hummed into his chest. Barry spooned her, but avoided caressing her, his hands drawing patterns on Len's back instead.

It should be oppressive, too close and too much.

But there was no desire to run, no stone settling in his stomach. Just a bone deep exhaustion and a sense of peace.

It couldn't last, of course. His brain fired up the planning cortex after just a few moments, making plan A and B and so on. He had an idea for every scenario, except maybe the outright cruel ones. The West-Allens were many things, but not cruel. He could be, though. He could be cruel and cold and a deeply unpleasant character, and in many ways that was his default. That was why he needed to plan this, to know what he'd say in any situation that could come up.

"Len?" Iris asked, her voice sleepy and slow.

"Mhm?"

"You're thinking too loudly. Calm down." Her breath evened out, a slow and regular movement, small puffs of air ruffling the sparse hair on his chest.

Barry shook her gently. "We need to get ready for bed before you fall asleep." She grunted, but followed him to the en suite bathroom. He could hear them brush their teeth and wash off, and looked down on his own sticky self.

If he left now, he could say it'd been fun, real hot, let's do it again sometime. Implied, of course, that it was not a real relationship. He could get dressed and flee. Or he could stay. Wash off, share their bed afterwards.

He made his choice, and joined them in the bathroom.

Iris sat by the white vanity, half asleep, her eyes drooping. Barry was massaging her scalp gently, working oil into the roots of her straightened hair. He held his toothbrush between his teeth, as if he'd been interrupted by her request, and still couldn't say no.

"Let me," Len said, washed his hands, and took over. Barry flashed him a quick smile, and went back to his own routine. She moaned, a deeper and more hushed sound than the ones she made when they had sex.

"So good… How are you so good at this?"

He caught her eyes in the mirror, and looked away. "Used to do this for my mom, when she was alive." He could feel the way the both of them studied him, and he wanted to shut down, to keep the past in the past, where it belonged. His traitorous mouth gave him no choice. "She wore it natural. Had a gorgeous 'fro. Looked like a halo around her head in the sun."

"I had puffs when I was little," Iris said, her hands coming up to mime the style. "Single dad, who worked a lot, low maintenance hair. 'S why I chose hair that needs weekly salon visits as soon as I could make my own choices."

"The first time someone grabbed my hair in a juvie fight, I shaved it all off, and I never went back."

Barry looked at him, deep in thought. "Should have thought of that. I just wore a beanie," he said, shuffling past them towards the door. Len took the chance to drag his fingers through Barry's hair, too, when he passed.

"Glad you didn't. That mane is your brand," he joked, and Barry giggled. It should have been a ridiculous sound, but it was so much  _ Barry _  that he couldn't help wanting more of it.

Iris bowed her head forward, and he followed her lead, moving his fingers in small circles on the back of her head. "Can you wrap a scarf, too?" she asked.

"Best leave it to the expert," he said, and she laughed, a deep chuckle. With quick movements, she wrapped a silk scarf around her hair, getting it ready for sleep. She stood up, small and lithe and absolutely gorgeous, and opened her arms for a hug.

He'd never been a hugging person. Definitely nothing like these two. But he was old and tired and absolutely fucked out, and he had had enough of resisting. He stepped into her arms, trying to find a position that wouldn't move the carefully arranged scarf. She was the one who let go, stroking his cheek and leaning in for a tender kiss. It seemed to remind her that he hadn't brushed his teeth, so she gave him a spare toothbrush, still in the packaging. With a quick smile, she pointed out the toothpaste and towels, and left him alone.

When he went back to bed, Iris was asleep in the middle. Barry sat on the side, stuffing his face with sandwiches and smoothies.

Len raised an eyebrow. "Really? You just brushed your teeth."

Barry shrugged. "Speedster metabolism. Want one?

"Old person metabolism, I'll pass. Better not be getting crumbs in bed."

Barry looked down between his legs, guiltily. With a streak of lightning, he had put away the food and cleaned up the bed, and was lying down. He patted the other side of the bed invitingly, and Len didn't have to be asked twice. He crawled under the covers, getting close to Iris' sleeping form. Her breath was regular and calming.

"I'm glad you came," Barry whispered. He seemed to realize what he had said. "Not like that, but like that, too. I'm glad you came back, and I'm glad you chose to come here, to be with us."

"I nearly didn't."

"I know." At Len's silent question, he continued. "I know you, Leonard Snart. Not as well as I want to know you, but more than you think. I know you're skittish and grumpy and afraid of affection, and I don't care. Just…" he paused, looking at the ceiling. "Tell me if I'm too much. Don't just leave."

"I…" Len hesitated. "I may have to leave. Can't promise anything else. Can't promise to come back, either, with our lives. But I can tell you why." He couldn't make promises. He'd only ever made one, to Lisa, and that, he broke when he left her in Lewis' care. 

Well, come to think of it, he'd told the Waverider crew that they were in it "for better or for worse," and they really were, until death did them part. Not a good example.

No, he wasn't one for vows. But he could tell the truth, even if it hurt. "I'm not planning to leave," he said. That much, he could give, and Barry seemed to accept it for what it was.

He stretched across Iris, planting a careful kiss on Len's lips. "That's all I wanted to hear," he said. "Good night, Len."

Len drifted off, dozing, wondering how long it had been since someone kissed him good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who's read this whole thing! I appreciate every single kudos and comment, even if I'm bad at replying.


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